


All It Took Was Panties

by lockedin221b



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Bondage, Bottom Sherlock, Dom John, Dom John Watson, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fingerfucking, Gags, Lace Panties, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Panties, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub Sherlock, Top John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 07:24:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockedin221b/pseuds/lockedin221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>When he came home one day from the surgery to find Sherlock in the bedroom—yes, they only had the one these days—lounging on the bed in nothing but a pair of women’s dark purple lace panties, John was simultaneously baffled and aroused.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	All It Took Was Panties

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beeonic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beeonic/gifts).



> Wow crap title or what?
> 
> For [Bianca](http://kingpegg.tumblr.com/) who wanted sub!bottomlock in panties. I hadn't written any sort of crossdressing in a while, so this was enticing. And lots of fun.
> 
> Thanks to Oreo for being my oh so eager beta.
> 
> And please don't get on my case about refractory periods. It's there, just not meticulously spelled out.

There were a lot of things about Sherlock that John had admitted to himself long ago he would never understand. The genius’ libido was one of them. When he came home one day from the surgery to find Sherlock in the bedroom—yes, they only had the one these days—lounging on the bed in nothing but a pair of women’s dark purple lace panties, John was simultaneously baffled and aroused.

“Are you drunk? Or high? Did you inhale chemicals at the lab, or-”

John was cut off by the languid movements of Sherlock’s body as he picked himself up off the mattress and stepped up to him. Dressed in nothing but the thin layer of lace stretched beautifully over his prominent erection, Sherlock pressed his palms against John’s chest and leaned close to whisper in his ear, “Fuck me like one of your girlfriends.”

It took years of military and medical training and experience to give John the self-restraint he had, and at that moment he used all of it to keep from laughing. “You’re definitely drunk.”

Sherlock hissed softly. “Do you smell alcohol on me?”

John put his own hands on Sherlock’s bare chest and pushed him back a few centimetres. “Sherlock, what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” he replied as he slowly dragged his hand down John’s front to his groin and gave a squeeze. “Yet.”

John bit his lip and closed his eyes for a moment. “Alright. If you want to have sex, all you have to-”

“I don’t want just sex. I want you to fuck me like the women you’ve fucked.”

“For a lot of reasons, that’s not possible. Sherlock, what-”

“Because I haven’t got a cunt? Give me one other reason.”

John frowned, a little annoyed at this point. “You’re really going to make me spell it out to you?”

“Yes.”

“Anal sex takes a lot more prep.”

At that, Sherlock turned and took a few paces away.

John inhaled sharply. To match the outline of Sherlock’s cock in front, there was the definite outline of the base of an anal plug in the back. John swallowed hard, clenching his hands at his sides to keep from stripping on the spot. “It doesn’t change the fact that you’re not a woman.”

Sherlock turned back to him, eyes dark and not entirely from arousal.

John walked up to him and settled his hands on either side of Sherlock’s face. “It doesn’t change the fact that I’ve never loved a woman the way I love you.” He pulled himself up and Sherlock down to meet in a slow, ardent kiss. When John broke it, he did so to whisper against Sherlock’s lips, “So tell me what you really want.”

Sherlock shivered, his eyes closed. “I want you to take me.”

“I’ve taken you countless times.”

“I want you to own me.”

John lowered one hand to Sherlock’s chest. “I do.”

“Show me.”

“I always show you.” John took Sherlock’s chin in his fingers and kissed him again, this one far more fleeting. “I will always show you.”

“John.” The sound of Sherlock’s voice was heady. “I want you to fuck me until I come. Twice.”

With a raised brow and half-suppressed smirk, John said, “Don’t know if I can stay hard that long.”

“I have faith in you.”

Getting John’s clothes off was a quick affair, and in moments they were on the bed, John pressed against Sherlock and marking him from lips to thighs. Sherlock was still wearing the panties. John noted the almost black damp spot over the impression of Sherlock’s cock. He gave it a quick taste. Sherlock gasped and his hips lifted momentarily off the mattress. “They look good on you.” John let his hot, moist breath ghost over the length before peeling the fabric away and licking up the shaft in a single wide swath.

Sherlock shuddered and panted, “Please. I want you inside me before I come.”

“With this tempting thing right in front of me?” John pointed his tongue against the slit.

“John!” Sherlock let out a long whine. “Please!”

John chuckled. “Alright, since you asked so nicely.” He slid the pants down, but only enough to extract the plug keeping Sherlock open. “Christ. How much lube did you use?” It was practically dripping out of Sherlock’s arse.

“Enough. John-”

“I know. Put it in, right?” John bit the inside of Sherlock’s thigh. “So demanding. I can fuck you until your eyes roll back in your head, and you’d still be a demanding git.” John reached over to the nightstand and dug out a condom. “Never had a girlfriend this demanding. Well, except Jeanette. Of course, we never fucked.”

“John!”

“What?”

“I asked you to fuck me like one of your girlfriends, not whinge on about them.” Sherlock glared at John. It was really a ridiculous position for him to be glaring in: knees bent up, purple panties stretched between his thighs, hard cock leaking pre-ejaculate.

John grinned and rolled on the condom. “We moved past that.”

“The point still sta—ah!” Sherlock gasped as John pushed into him, and not as slowly as he usually did. 

John gave a slow, full thrust from tip to hilt. Sherlock groaned and pushed into it. John pressed his knees back, abusing the taller man’s flexibility, and leaned over Sherlock. He dug his fingers into Sherlock’s thighs and spoke, punctuating with thrusts, “I—never—fucked—a—woman—like—I—fuck—you.” John moved one hand from thigh to prick and stroked twice for every thrust. He had Sherlock between crying and moaning when he came.

John had to stop while he rubbed Sherlock through his orgasm. With the tightness of Sherlock’s climax surrounding John’s cock, he’d never have kept it up if he tried to move in that moment. So he pulled Sherlock through, kissing the insides of his knees and thighs as he did.

With Sherlock trembling in his hands, John leaned forward and kissed him roughly. “One.” As soon as Sherlock’s body was in a relaxed, post-orgasm state, John picked up again with punishing force. He pulled almost entirely out for each thrust, and rammed in so hard their skin slapped together loudly.

Sherlock whimpered with each thrust, but each thrust brought him gradually out of the dopamine-induced haze in which all he could do was feel. John could see his eyes slowly clearing up. The first thing he said that wasn’t John’s name or some kind of plea was, “You’re never going to last.”

John stopped mid-thrust and blinked. “Excuse me?”

Sherlock met his gaze, breathing hard but unwavering. “You’re never going to make it. I can tell. You’ll come before you can even get me hard a second time.”

John ground his teeth in annoyance. “You do realise I have my prick up your arse, right?”

“Exactly.” Sherlock smiled wickedly and squeezed himself around John’s cock.

John gasped and groaned, pressing down on Sherlock’s shins. “Fuck. You bastard! I thought you wanted me to.”

“I realise now it was too much to ask, especially of someone your age.”

John flashed him a bitter smirk. “We’ll see about that.” He pulled out of Sherlock abruptly. He yanked the panties completely off Sherlock and flipped the man onto his side. “I’m sure a man of your age can get hard again in no time.”

Sherlock chuckled as he looked at John over his shoulder. “Think you can make me?”

John grabbed the panties and stuffed the material in Sherlock’s mouth. He leaned over the edge of the bed to grab his belt.

Sherlock had already pulled the pants out of his mouth. “What the hell?” he said laughing. When he saw John’s belt, though, he stopped and his brow shot up with interest. “Oh, John. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

John grabbed Sherlock’s hands and pushed them over his head. As he secured Sherlock’s wrists to the headboard he said, “Yes you did. You’ve known all along.” He picked the pants back up and contemplated them for a moment while he continued, “But you had to play your little games to bring it out of me, didn’t you? You couldn’t have said something like a normal person. No, Sherlock has to play his fucking mind games. Even with his best friend and lover.” John used the panties to wipe up Sherlock’s cooled, sticky ejaculate before stuffing it into his mouth a second time. A very stunned Sherlock coughed around the fabric. “So now I’m going to fuck you until you’re begging to come a second time.”

The sceptical amusement was still evident in Sherlock’s expression, despite the ridiculous contrast with how the rest of him looked.

John resumed, not with his cock, but with his fingers. He pushed them into Sherlock’s wide open arse and began ruthlessly massaging his still oversensitive prostate. The offending look dissolved from Sherlock’s expression. “You’re a right bastard,” John said as he curled his fingers. “You knew you’d have to piss me off to do this, to do what you wanted me to do all along—dominate you. You knew I’d be too fucking appalled at the idea. You had to prove that I wanted it—that I wanted something I didn’t even know I wanted. Like you. You knew there was no other way I’d agree. You knew and I fucking hate that you knew. I hate that you know more about me than I do.” John gave a particularly lavish stroke that made Sherlock keen, the beautiful noise muffled around the panties, which, of course, made it more sensuous. John pulled out his fingers and lined his cock back up. All he did, though, was rest the head against Sherlock’s opening. He waited until Sherlock met his gaze. “I hate that you pull this out of me, that you bring the twisted parts of me to the surface.” He leaned over and bit down on the taut skin and muscle just below Sherlock’s exposed underarm. He looked up from that position and found Sherlock’s eyes, wide and dilated. “But I love how it makes you feel.” John straightened up, moved Sherlock’s leg closer to his head, and pushed in once again. “I love that I’m the one making you feel this way.” He caught the slightest nod from Sherlock and smiled. “You’re still a bastard.” He looked down to see Sherlock’s prick was less than flaccid. “And a bit of a slut, aren’t you?” He wrapped his hand around Sherlock’s cock and stroked it long and leisurely. “I suppose that’s alright. So long as you’re my slut, right?” Again, he received a tiny, wide-eyed nod from Sherlock.

John stroked Sherlock in time with his thrusts: slow at first and building steadily. He held Sherlock between thigh and arse with his other hand. Once Sherlock was fully erect for a second time, John tilted Sherlock’s hips back to get a better angle on his prostate. Sherlock moaned around the panties and tried to fuck John’s hand. John pressed down on his hips, though, stilling him. John was going to do this, just like Sherlock wanted him to.

“You’re a fucking cockslut,” he huffed as he worked his cock in Sherlock’s arse and Sherlock’s cock in his hand.

Sherlock whined.

“You’re my slut. My personal whore, aren’t you?”

Sherlock nodded violently.

“No one else touches you. Not even you, not unless I tell you to.”

Sherlock’s eyes gleamed and he nodded again, neck straining. His fingers were curled around the leather belt where they could reach.

“You’re fucking beautiful like this. And I finally got you to shut up. Should gag you more often.” John was close again. Too close. He slowed down, though he still moved his hand around Sherlock’s cock. “Ready to come again so soon?”

A whimper, followed by a nod.

“Good.” He rubbed his thumb over the glans and across the slit. “Come. Come for me.” He thrust hard and squeezed, and Sherlock was coming again. This time, John fucked him through his climax. As soon as Sherlock was coming, he fucked the tight heat of his arse fast and hard until he was bent over Sherlock’s side, bollocks-deep inside him, groaning with his own orgasm.

When he could sit up again, he pulled out and freed Sherlock’s hands. He slumped against Sherlock’s side, not even bothering with the condom yet.

Sherlock pulled the panties from his mouth and, after wetting his lips thoroughly, started to say, “Well, John-”

John took the pants out of Sherlock’s hand and stuffed them loosely back in his mouth. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Sherlock tossed the panties out of John’s reach. “I was going to say ‘amazing’.”

“You’re a twat. You may not have one, but you are one.”

Sherlock laughed quietly. “And you’ve just fucked me better than I’ve ever been fucked.”

John looked up. “Really?”

“Top three, at least.”

John punched him softly. “Twat.”


End file.
